


Under Repair

by DawnsEternalLight



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anxiety, Car Accidents, Car repair, Damian's worried he messed up, Fluff, Gen, Jason Todd is a good brother, Sneaking Out, Stress, but he's got a helpful brother, it's mostly Damian worrying, some minor angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:42:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21945283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: Damian sneaks out in one of Bruce's cars and has to call Jason to help him repair it.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Damian Wayne
Comments: 11
Kudos: 363
Collections: Batfam Christmas Stocking 2019





	Under Repair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EmeraldHeiress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldHeiress/gifts).



> Merry Christmas and happy holidays to you EmeraldHeiress! I hope you enjoy this fic <3

A terrible scratching under the car pulled Damian’s attention away from the road. For some inane reason, he looked down. Not to the side, or in his review mirror, but down, to his lap. When he looked back up, as confused as he’d been before, a median was coming at him quickly. He slammed on the breaks and yanked the steering wheel to the side in an attempt to mitigate damage and miss hitting the solid concrete wall. 

The car dragged against the concrete before it jerked to a stop just to the side of the median, and Damian sat staring at it for a moment, heart in a race to catch his ribcage as it rose and fell in heaving gasps. He let his head fall against the steering wheel and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to make his body calm down. He faced scarier things on patrol nightly—this was nothing. And yet, it took far longer than he’d like to admit for him to collect himself. 

When his breathing evened out to something less than panicked, he sat up and checked his rearview mirror. The street he was on was empty—and why would it be anything but? It was a little used path, one for him to practice on where he had far less of a chance to be pulled over. 

Damian undid his seatbelt and pushed open the door before stepping out onto the road. The wind blew, throwing his hair everywhere and shoving the door forward. He caught it with a hand, moving to close it, and blinked against the continuing gust. He shoved his bangs back and moved to examine the front of the car.

He could see the bumper was loose before he was even close. It was scratched and dented in its corner. He swallowed. He could probably buff it out, fix the dent, and repaint. Even if the whole thing had to be replaced, he could do that. They had the supplies at home, and with Father laid up in bed recovering, Damian would have plenty of time to fix it on his own. 

Yes, he could do this. 

He needed to check the source of the dragging that had first distracted him and get rid of it so that he could then determine if the car was safe to drive. He crouched and peered under car. Tangled in the undercarriage was a mess of leaves and branches. Damian reached under to tug at it. It moved an inch before catching and holding. 

He swore. Stupid wind blowing everything everywhere and ruining his day. 

When he stood back up, the wind caught him again, tearing at his shirt and seemingly trying its best to blow him away. Damian glared in the direction it was blowing.

“Stop,” he grumbled. “You have done enough already.” 

In response the wind picked up again as if to say _“I have only just started._ ” 

Damian rolled his eyes and turned back to his task. He needed to see if there was any dangerous damage done to the carriage before he could continue. That meant getting those stupid branches to move. He was angry and frustrated enough that instead of thinking, he rolled up his sleeves, flicked on his phone flashlight, and crawled right back under the car. 

He settled the phone beside him and started pulling at branches. They were stuck firmly, like the time Richard had thought it funny to try and pull his hair into a ponytail. The rubberband had been so tangled they’d needed to cut it out, and for weeks after, his brother had an odd bit of hair that stuck up. Damian attempted to loosen them just as he’d attempted to untangle knotted grappling lines before--by pulling on one part and shifting when something got stuck again. 

A branch snapped, flicking across his face in a vicious swipe. Damian jerked back, hand flying up on instinct, and smacked into more branches, scratching his skin. He swore and extracted his hand from the leaves and sharp wood, and pressed two fingers against his cheek. It burned and stung, and when he pulled his hand away, he could see the shine of blood in his phone light. 

Damian bit back a groan of frustration as it built in his chest. He could just hear Richard in his head, reminding him to breathe when he needed to calm down. He took one, then two, deep steadying breaths, releasing each slowly. When he’d calmed sufficiently enough to ignore the sting on his cheek and his piling problems, he resumed the task of trying to extract the debris. 

Ten minutes later, with hands even further scratched and a still burning cheek, Damian crawled out from under the car and tried to still the growing frustration building in his chest. The stupid tree limb was so tangled he hadn’t even been able to get it to budge. All he’d managed to do was break some branches off it and scratch himself up. 

He leaned back against the car, not caring how the dirt clinging to bottom might transfer to his shirt, and ran his hand across his face. The wind was still blistering, forcing him to blink as his bangs were pulled from their normal curl and into his eyes again. 

Guilt pooled in his stomach. He’d messed up. This was supposed to be a quick trip to get soup, not an accident that stopped him before he’d even made it to his destination. Worst of all, he’d messed up one of Father’s favorite cars. He stood and pressed his lips together as he looked over the damage on the car again. 

He’d seen Father and Grayson work on the car together, just a few weeks prior. Damian hadn’t meant to spy. He’d come upon it accidentally and then had wanted to just watch. The two of them looked like they’d spent years working beside each other, which, of course, they had. It had been mesmerizing, and made Damian a little jealous. He knew that he didn’t work as well with either man. 

Damian swallowed, he wasn’t even sure why he’d picked this car. He’d just been drawn to it, and the magic around it. And now, it was ruined. 

He moved to examine the bumper once more, brushing a hand against it. Even that little bit of pressure made the thing creak and slip further down the front of the car. His heart sunk and the silly thought hit him to crouch down and attempt to fix the bumper by hefting it to shove up against the car. It held only for a moment before the whole thing scratched and dropped, the bent, scratched end hanging so far down now, it touched the concrete. 

Damian could fix this. He had to. If he were home in the cave with his tools and supplies it would be easy work, if not quick. He could take it home. Call Father and admit everything. But he couldn’t bother Father. He was in bed, recovering from an accident. If Damian called him, he knew Father would pull himself out of bed no matter how bad he felt. He couldn’t do that to him. 

No. He needed to fix his own mistake, and hopefully make it home fast enough for Father to still be sleeping. He would not be a burden. He’d be helpful, no matter what it took. 

The wind continued, now rattling the sunken bumper, causing it to scratch and screech against the ground. Damian squared his shoulders. He could still do this. Even if his stomach was swimming with anxiety and a voice in his head (soft, whispering, like Ra’s) kept telling him he’d fail. 

Damian shook his head and shoved those thoughts to the side before he moved to dig through the car’s trunk. Surely Father kept some emergency supplies in his cars. Supplies designed to help with the other side of their lives—like batarangs or something. Instead of batarangs, all he found were the typical supplies someone might stock against an unknown problem, like fresh clothes and water. He did drag out the jack so he could have a better angle at getting at the mess of leaves and wood trapped in the undercarriage. 

When at last he got the car up on the jack Damian quickly realized he had a bigger problem than he’d been imagining. It wasn’t just stuck. The branch had damaged things. Badly. The realization that he needed help dropped into his already churning stomach like a stone. 

He would not call Father. And yet, there were few others he could call. He’d driven himself since no one else was home. Pennyworth was out, taking the weekend for himself, and his siblings were busy. If patrol had not gone sideways, Damian and Father would be fine for a few days, he had even been looking forward to it—but now it was all falling apart. 

Damian pulled his phone from his pocket and turned it in his hands, trying to think. His chest was tight, each breath feeling sharp and too cold. Even his head was starting to feel light. Damian thought he might be sick. He didn’t know what to do. 

He clicked his screen on and started flipping through contacts, desperate to find someone, _anyone,_ to help. 

Jason’s name flashed on his screen and he stopped. Todd was still in town. He felt a flash of guilt over not considering him sooner, but pushed it away. He was still getting used to having his older brother around, so forgetting in a moment of panic could be excused. Out of all his siblings, he was the best choice. Damian knew Jason’s experience with cars outweighed most of the others in their family. 

Damian called him before he could talk himself out of it. As he pressed his phone to his ear, his heart wouldn’t stop racing. If Jason was busy or didn’t pick up, Damian didn’t know what he was going to do. And if he did what then? Damian could ask for help, but would Todd listen? Or would he laugh at him and hang up? Damian tried to tamp down that fear, Todd might give him a hard time but he wouldn’t say no. 

“If you’re calling to ask me to patrol with you tonight, the answer is no. I’m not babysitting,” Todd said, not wasting any time jumping into the conversation. 

Jason’s immediate rejection threw Damian off. It was a very Jason thing to say, so Damian should have expected it. What he didn’t expect was the off kilter feeling that Jason’s words had caused. Damian’s breaths were coming short and everything else felt amplified, like it was all too much. He had to take another few seconds to try to breathe, the attempt not nearly as effective as his first. 

“Todd,” he said, attempting to keep his voice from breaking. 

Apparently his attempt had not been good enough, because his brother’s tone changed immediately.

“What’s the matter? Did something happen? Is Bruce—”

“No, no. It is not Father,” Damian interrupted, swallowing. 

He’d messed up again, worrying Todd and making him think Father’s injury might be worse than it was. Everything was starting to feel overwhelming and Damian hated it. He hated the feeling that his emotions were slipping from his control. Hated that he’d allowed himself to be so rattled and upset by all this. 

All he’d been trying to do was help, and he kept making things worse. 

“Okay, what’s wrong then?” Jason’s voice was no less worried, even informed of Father’s safety. 

“I—” Damian had gotten better at asking for help, so much so that the words normally were not difficult to get out. This, however, felt like several steps in the wrong direction. Still, he managed to say, “I require your assistance. I have damaged one of Father’s cars and cannot repair it on my own.” 

“Explain.” 

He did not want to explain. Damian wanted Jason there now. 

No, that was not true. Damian wanted to be home, successful in his quest and not dealing with any of this at all. But here he was, the scraping sound of metal on concrete was digging at him, fraying his already thin composure. 

“Todd.” It was as close to asking him for help again as Damian could come. He would not beg, but his chest was too tight and he couldn’t stop thinking about Father waking to find him absent from the manor. 

“You’re explaining when I get there. Where are you and what do you need?” 

Damian gave Jason directions and listed all the things they’d need. Then he was left on his own to wait for his brother to arrive. 

The waiting was not easy. Every moment Damian thought he’d collected himself, another wave of panic or thought of “ _if Father finds out, he will be disappointed_ ” would wash over him. The thought of Father finding out and being upset caught in his throat and made his eyes feel puffy and hot. 

He tried walking off the anxious feeling. Then sitting on the curb. And in the car. Finally he found himself leaning against a tire, knees pulled up to his chest, and face buried in them while he tried to breathe. 

Damian was so lost in trying to calm down that he didn’t hear Jason drive up or even his brother’s approach. It wasn’t until a hand dropped onto his shoulder that Damian realized anyone was there. 

Distraught as he was, Damian’s reaction was instant, he grabbed the wrist and yanked the hand away. In the next moment he shoved himself forward, tackling the person to the ground. It wasn’t until he was staring down at Jason’s face that he recognized his brother. 

“Todd.” Damian breathed, then scrambled away. 

Jason hadn’t said anything during the whole exchange. In contrast, Damian’s mind was racing, heart pounding, another mistake on top of all the other’s working to further destroy his composure. 

Damian pushed himself to his feet, chest heaving. He hated himself, hated falling apart like this. And in front of _Todd_ of all people. Damian’s hands curled into fists by his sides and he tilted his chin up in defiance of the roaring in his ears. 

“I did not see you.” he said, words clipped. 

He felt on the verge of something, screaming perhaps? Or maybe tears. He needed to reign in that feeling and control it. Todd was here now and Damian had help, he didn’t need to feel overwhelmed anymore. And if Father woke and found him not there? Damian could tell the truth and say he was with Todd. He dragged his emotions deeper into his chest imagining them wrapped in a tight ball so they couldn’t escape and locked eyes with his brother. 

Jason had stood as well, his hands were empty, but his car was parked close, driver’s door hanging open. It was obvious he was concerned, but Damian could do little about that right now. He had to push past that and convince him he was fine, and that started with his promised explanation. 

“As you are aware, Father was injured on patrol last night.” Damian started, he tried not to think about the fact that if he’d been there perhaps Father would be fine and this mess would have been avoided, he plowed ahead, “In an effort to make Father rest I offered to get food for the day with the stipulation I asked for a ride or ordered it delivered.” 

“But you decided to drive yourself.” 

Damian shrugged, “Everything else was too long a wait time, and by the time I left Father was sleeping. I thought it good timing.” 

He let his hands release from fists into open palms against his legs, “I was only trying to help.” 

Jason coughed out a laugh, “I can see that.” 

Damian felt sudden heat rise to his face. This was what he hadn’t wanted to hear when asking for help. He knew he’d messed up, and the confirmation only seemed to shove the lid on his emotions to the side, letting them all bubble up and out. 

The wind picked up again, blowing harder than before. Strong enough that Damian had to adjust his footing to stay standing. The rattling of the bumper grew louder and louder before there was as screeching that caught both Damian and Jason’s attentions. He turned to see the already loose bumper rattle so hard the whole thing fell and began skittering away. It caught between the tire and median, and lay there rattling as the wind tried to lift it again.

It was finally too much for Damian. His chest caught again, this time on a sudden sob. He had to suck back hot tears as they began to flood his eyes and obscure his vision. His hands gripped at his pants and all he wanted to do in that moment was disappear. He had only been trying to help. That’s all he’d wanted to do. None of this should have happened, and yet it had. It was simply proof that he could do nothing correctly, and only ever seemed to make life harder for everyone else. From failing Father to dragging Jason out here, away from his own life. 

“Hey, hey.” Jason’s ton was gentle, as he stepped close to Damian, “It’s going to be okay.” 

He reached out and tugged Damian into his chest, wrapping his arms around him to hold him close. Damian let himself be pulled, and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing in the scent of Jason’s fabric softener. He didn’t return the hug, he was too focused on not totally breaking down, but he did lean into the embrace, letting his forehead rest against the soft fabric of his brother’s shirt. 

“I was just joking with you, you know? Stuff happens, but this doesn’t look like anything we can’t fix.”

Damian sniffed and nodded, before pulling back, “Of course not. I chose you for a reason.” 

Jason grinned at him and raised an eyebrow, “Oh? And here I was thinking I was the only one left in town.” 

“I would not have asked for your help if I did not believe you capable, last person or not.” Damian said, then turned to glance at the car, “If we continue to stand around wasting time this accursed wind will blow everything away.” 

It took forever, but they got the car working and the branches cleaned out. Damian was surprised by how good it was looking by the time they drove it back to the manor. Once there Damian delivered soup they’d picked up on the way back to Father while Todd continued to work on things. 

When he could pull himself away from Father Damian returned to the garage and helped his brother add a fresh coat of paint to the bumper and now buffed scratches. 

“It will look as if nothing had happened when we are done.” Damian said, standing back, brush in hand. 

His brother clapped a hand onto his shoulder, “You called an expert, you get expert work.”

“And just how many of Father’s cars have you fixed to get the title of expert?” Damian asked, unable to hide a grin. 

He was relieved. Relieved to have seen Father and made sure he was still well, relieved he had not had to call him, and relieved the damage would be repaired. Damian could collapse in a happy heap at this point and be unaffected by anything else. 

“Enough. I did start out my career as Robin by stealing your dad’s tires.” 

Damian rolled his eyes, “Indeed.” he shifted, “Would you like to stick around through dinner? Father would love to see you.”

“And admit your wrecked his car and had to be bailed out?” Jason teased. 

“Tt, no. I thought you might stay and cook.” Damian shot him a grin.

“Ah ha! The truth comes out, you just need an Alfred replacement.” 

Damian pointed the brush at Jason, “Lies and slander, I could cook or order out, I simply wished to use all the tools at my disposal. Besides,” he added, voice softer, “I did not lie about Father. He would be delighted to see you, even if he is cross with me over the car.” 

Jason ruffled his hair. Damian ducked with a scowl, and swatted at his hand, which only made his brother more insistent on messing with him.

“Fine, I’ll come up, but we’re telling Bruce about the car first thing, then I’m showing you how to make a proper dinner. Really, how he’s let any of you leave without a basic understanding of how food works is beyond me.” 

Damian grinned, showing all his teeth, “That’s up to you, older brothers have to help the younger.” 

Jason hooked an arm around Damian and turned him in the direction of the house, “You’ve been reading too many books.” 

If he had, it was entirely Jason’s fault. Not that Damian would ever admit that to him. It would inflate his overly large ego even further, and none of his siblings needed that. He let his brother lead him into the room, looping his own arm around Jason’s. 

“Come then, let us go see Father.” 


End file.
